He rubbed his hands together, observing Mingzhao's expression.
Mingzhao finally looked away from the blueprints and went to take a look at the room next door.
The room was small, with only room for a bed, a table, and a chair. The walls were mottled, but very clean.
She nodded almost without hesitation: "Okay. The accommodation meets the minimum requirements. This will save me travel time and improve my work efficiency."
For her, this was simply a reasonable solution to optimize time utilization.
"Okay! Okay! You go ahead and get busy!"
Old Ma felt like he'd been granted a pardon. He quickly told the workers to move the things inside and arrange them properly, and then quietly slipped out.
Mingzhao withdrew her gaze and refocused on the drawings. Where she lived was essentially no different from any other parameter on the drawing board.
She completely forgot that at this moment, dozens of kilometers away, outside the gate of the military research institute, it was already late at night.
A military jeep sat quietly under the dim streetlights.
The driver's side window was rolled down halfway.
Howard leaned back in his chair, the brim of his military cap pulled low, obscuring most of his face except for his sharply defined jawline.
The cigarette he held between his fingers had burned quite a bit of ash, but he forgot to flick it off.
The tiny sparks flickered in the dim light.
He has been holding this position for a long time.
His gaze was fixed on the institute's tightly closed gate, which appeared particularly solemn in the night.
Old Li, the head of the institute's gatehouse, poked his head out for the third time, wearing a military overcoat: "Commander Huo, it's very cold today. Why don't you come in and warm up? Comrade Mingzhao... seems to have been delayed by something and hasn't come out yet."
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